


It's Never Too Late

by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Becky Ships It, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Charlie Ships It, Charlie and Dean are roommates, High School Reunion, Implied fake/pretend relationship, M/M, Pre-Castiel/Dean Winchester, Pre-Relationship, Second First Meeting, author thinks author is funny, between Charlie and Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving/pseuds/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving
Summary: Ten years is a long time to pine over someone. Good thing Charlie has aDean Winchesterfool proof plan
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24
Collections: Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion





	It's Never Too Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovemuppet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovemuppet/gifts).



> Written for the profound bond server exchange and the theme 'Reunion'
> 
> I hope lovemuppet and everybody else enjoys this little story.
> 
> As always: Comments and kudos encouraged.   
> If I forgot a tag let me know and I'll add it

And now apparently Dean’s life is like a movie.  
Not a very good one mind you, hardly more than one of those quickly forgotten comedies that in hindsight (if you even remember anything) aren’t all that funny, but a movie nonetheless.

It begins like this: It’s a perfectly ordinary Monday where he gets up, showers, dresses, eats breakfast and goes to work. He has lunch with a co-worker where they talk about work and then he goes back to his office until five. On his way home he makes a stop at the grocery store buying a few essentials and whatever he thinks he needs for dinner, he pays and walks the rest of the way home humming a song he’s heard somewhere but can’t remember neither title nor words.

At home he changes into more comfortable clothes, prepares the ingredients and then takes half an hour with a book to relax before he hears the front door opening. He’s on his feet and in the kitchen when Charlie pokes her head through the door to say hello, the pan heating on the stove before she’s out of sight once more.  
She comes back a few minutes later, hair hanging loose and the suit replaced by sweats and a t-shirt, setting the table while he finishes cooking. They’re nearly done when she places a pristine envelope on the table and just the sight of it has blood draining from his face.

It somehow ends in a hotel lobby, their arms linked and matching gold rings on their fingers, he really should learn to say no to at least _some_ of her crazy ideas.

~x~

The woman greeting and handing them their nametags is having yet another lengthy conversation with the couple currently in front of the line. It hasn’t gotten any more interesting than the five other times it’s happened so far, so Dean’s looking around for some kind of distraction.

To his right, past the open double doors he can see a large banner with the words _years’ reunion_ written in blue letters lined with grey. Dean doesn’t have to see the rest of the words to know what’s hidden due to either the angle he’s looking at the banner from or the fact that the rooms are separated by walls but he still can’t believe it’s been ten years since they graduated high school even if, objectively, he’s aware his thirties are lurking right around the corner.  
The couple are finally leaving their spot and the woman cheerily greets the next in line, Dean watching them make their way through the doors trying to put a name to either of them, but they both look so _old_ , nothing like those few he remembers from his high school days.

Slowly the line keeps moving and as he gets closer to the end he looks around to see where Charlie went. They’d just barely gotten in line when she’d told him she’d be right back, but now that he’s thinking about it that’s probably fifteen or twenty minutes ago. Someone shifts and he sees her red hair, her hands flying as she’s talking to a dark haired woman Dean thinks reminds him of someone even if he can’t place her. Her head’s cocked and body leaning closer to Charlie whose thumb is suddenly pointing over her shoulder making the woman look up and over at him. Dean waves awkwardly and takes a step forward when he senses the empty space in front of him. She says something that makes Charlie laugh but she doesn’t turn her head so Dean can’t even wave at her to get her butt back in line.  
Oh well, he’ll just have to make sure her name tag says ‘Celeste’ in large, easily read letters.

The people in front of him steps to the side and at long last he’s made it to the woman with a pen hovering above said tags and he’s about to open his mouth and give her their names when she squeals like an excited toddler;

“I _knew it_. Todd and Janice said there was no way, but I knew the second I saw you’d crossed off ‘two’ on the form.” Somehow it’s her excitement Dean recognizes, mind flashing with the image of a younger version of her along with the name Becky. Doesn’t prevent his current ‘dead fish’ imitation seeing as he has no idea what she’s talking about, considering he hadn’t returned the form that had been enclosed with the invitation.

No, what he _had_ done was letting Charlie convince him they should attend their high school reunion as a married couple (because, and he’d said so repeatedly, _that_ was believable to those who’d known them in high school to which Charlie had laughed and insisted that was the fun of it) and so he’d left putting their names down to her as well as anything else related to the planning of this weekend. Whatever Becky thought she knew was definitely thanks to whatever Charlie had written on those forms and he should’ve known better than to let her handle things when she’d already let slip there’d be shenanigans afoot.

He tunes back into the tail-end of Becky’s monologue “… as prom kings, but ms Blake said we needed a prom queen, too, and three would be too many on the stage.” Dean still has no idea what she’s on about, he didn’t even attend prom and definitely wasn’t in the running for that particular title. And it would be awesome if Charlie would get here right about now to stop whatever tirade Becky was undoubtedly just a deep breath away from.

Dean’s ready to breathe his own sigh of relief and greet his friend with an _about goddamn time_ , except that’s not Charlie’s red hair he can see out of the corner of his eye just like Charlie’s voice has never been that deep or rumbly (he definitely doesn’t remember anybody who had a voice like that, hasn’t spent the last ten years dreaming of its owner and what life would’ve been like if he’d been braver).  
Becky lets out yet another squeal, her eyes darting from Dean’s hand to, presumably, the man’s next to him, an even brighter grin on her face than when she’d first seen Dean.

“I knew it,” she repeats, reverently this time rather than smug, her hands blindly searching the table in front of her while she keeps staring at them, her mouth opening and closing around soundless words.  
Her hands close around two nametags with dark letters that she holds out in quiet offering, a broad hand with long fingers reaches out and takes them, that same deep voice rumbles a quiet “thank you, Becky,” which receives a high pitched noised that sounds both pleased and like something a human shouldn’t be capable of producing; the man gently uses his body to push out of the line and towards the double doors, an arm wrapping around his waist to steer him (yet another inhuman sound follows them at it) when Dean’s feet refuse to corporate.

He expects to be walked through those doors into the throng of people but is instead lead past them along the wall into a hall way that isn’t filled with people he once went to school with. Dean regains the use of his legs and the arm around his waist disappears; the man doesn’t move, though, even if they stand close enough they’re nearly touching.  
Closing his eyes to gather his thoughts, Dean takes a deep breath, another, another, until his heart slows down and he doesn’t feel like he’s about to pass out. Then he look up into a pair of happy-bright blue eyes.

“Hello Dean.”

**end**  
_(except of course not really)_


End file.
